Strength of Mind
by SaphireInTheSky
Summary: When it feels like the end, you're never supposed to give up, you're supposed to keep going. You're supposed to fight for your life so you can live to see another day. A musketeer faces this mortal challenge alone...but does he have enough strength of mind to keep himself from falling over the brink?
1. Pinned

**Looking for randomness, whump and a bit of a thrill? This two chapter mini fic should do it for you! **

**Haha, weird intro, I know…oh well…I cooked this up to get my creative juices going again -all so I could get back to finishing my other stories (so for those of you following me, I have not abandoned them, I promise!)**

**As i was typing this story, I was listening to sad/powerful songs from Zack Hemsey: The Way and Waiting Between Worlds. I strongly recommend you try them in that order as they really strengthen the emotions of the moment. If not, i hope my writing alone is entertaining enough for you ;)**

**Anyways, read on, I hope you enjoy this!**

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Pain.

A red, hot flash of stabbing pain raced through my limbs, forcing an arch into my back and prying my mouth open for forbidden breaths of air while my widening my eyes darted about in a desperate terror.

Agony.

I couldn't hear, could barely see. My senses had been stripped from me….all but the sensation of touch.

It was the one damned sense I wanted nothing to do with. The one agonizing sense that was tearing me apart from the inside out. _Literally_.

I couldn't scream -I'd already tried that. The lack of air forbade by voice.

I wanted to cry. Just wanted to scream and cry and strangle the heavens for an answer that justified this end.

But i couldn't ...and no answer came.

I was all alone. Frightened for once in my life. Frightened enough to admit that I couldnt do this alone, that i was no longer the brave leader in this fight, that i needed help.

I was frightened beyond all reason. Subjected to the kind of fear that overrides all logical thought and restricts a person to breathless panting, twitching and a inexplicable urge to run. To escape.

But still, I couldn't move. I was stuck…pinned down would be more accurate.

Lanced straight through the gut and pinned down to the ground with my own flesh and blood, would be _extremely _accurate…

I gasped desperately, once more, and this time a strange feeling of suction drifted through my awareness.

It felt like I was dragging rusty nails through a thin water-spout. Except the spout was my insides...

Whatever it was, it brought about a scratchy, irritating feeling that left my eyes swimming with tears and left my throat in gurgling mess of molten liquids.

I gasped again. _I needed air!_

It was then that something hot and wet trickled over my lips and dripped down into my thick beard. The liquid had a crimson taste, one I had become well acquainted with over the years.

It was never good news… so I ignored for the time being.

Air was more important. I would die without air... I was dying already…I could feel it.

The icy, bone like fingers of the grim reaper were slowly tightening themselves into my shredded leathers, but I could do naught about it.

I wanted to call for help but I couldn't….And even if I could, distracting my brothers, while in battle, would be a death sentence for us all.

I could not allow myself to endanger them further.

I was beyond saving anyway.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing, in out, in out. It had seemed so simple before, and yet, with every passing moment, the task became that much more impossible.

It was like drowning on land. Laden down by invisible lead weights while metal sliced and clashed overhead, while musket charges echoed across the battle torn fields that now basked in only the glow of midnight with its' thick smokey haze. While I lay here, dying.

Not a drop of water in sight. No friends. No brothers. No air…

In, out. In, out. Just breathe…I repeated this mantra in my mind, visualizing the goal as if it were a beacon of light in an endless fog.

I could get through this, or at least I could damned well try.

They wouldn't give up so easily in this situation. They wouldn't give up on me.

So I couldn't give up on them…on me…on us.

In, out. In, out.

A sensation of lightness suddenly descended on my form making my limbs feel as if they were floating above the ground, free from those strange lead objects at last.

I peeled my eyes open, spying my blurrily injured form and the silver rod that pierced its' center.

I was not floating as I had believed…I was still as stuck as ever….so why did I feel this way.

I wanted to ask my brother. He knew everything there was to know about injuries, or at least we believed so.

He would know what this feeling was, he would know how to fix me…somehow…if it wasn't too late already.

Suddenly I wanted to call for him, call my brother over and ask him to fix me. To save me. To tell me I could survive this. That i didn't have to leave this world just yet...

But his name escaped me.

I could see his handsome face, that long grey cloak, the charming twinkle of his eyes. I had known him for years. We had forged a deep bond of brotherhood. He had saved me many a time, and I, him.

But his name…

The dreaded fog of illusion clouded my mind once more. The pain was ebbing somewhat by now. You would think this fortunate circumstance would allow me to concentrate and recall…but it did not.

Swiveling my head left into the wet, muddied grass, I sought out the silhouette of my closest brothers.

Perhaps if I could see them again, a name would provide itself…or better yet, they would notice me.

Or maybe i just wanted to see them one last time, as warriors fighting in all their glory. Of warriors whom i loved, did love and was proud of beyond anything else in my bleak, short, miserable life.

I watched the twisting shadows lunged to and fro in a deadly battle of skills. Admired the dancing, skirting and twisting of their torsos and how it all seemed like some sort of exotic, elaborate art, one of beauty and passion…

It was always strange how the mind drew these conclusions in the most dire of times…

A sudden pain shot up through my chest and forced me to hold my breath as it simmered beneath the surface, sparking up through my bones to radiate out into shakes and shivers.

I was growing tired of this…

I wanted it to end, but it had just begun…or had it?

Time had become as lost as my addled mind.

As the pain flowed and subsided I settled back into the rattling moans that had become my new pace of breath. I was gracious for it, as it meant I may survive, yet.

In, out, In, out... The mantra was fading too. Becoming a little more pointless with every waning second.

I needed help now. I had gained my breath, now what I needed was help. The help of my brothers.

I gazed about once more, not having remembered closing my dim eyes shut in exhaustion.

This was no time to sleep. I _needed_ to find my brothers.

If they could not come to me, I would go to them.

I twisted my torso as if in attempt to sit up, and immediately, an excruciating pain rose in my gut.

Ah, yes. I was pinned...

Raising trembling arms up into the air, I rested the leaden limbs about the top of the blade, scrunching numbed fingers about the handle before giving a testing tug at its weight.

Another fiery pain shot forth. One that forced me into a halt and left me gritting my teeth and clenching the blade with all my might.

I had to get past this _trivial_ sensation. I could not let pain rule my life -or take it from me. I had been through painful situations all my life, I could surely handle this one.

I smirked at my own subconscious humour and gripped the handle once more.

In, out, in out. I blinked vigorously to clear my eyes as my vision faded out once more with large grey splotches. It wouldn't stop me. I wouldn't allow it.

In, out, in, out. Hold breath. **Pull!**

I yanked the sword upwards as hard as I could in one swift movement, felt the slicing of metal on flesh -and the unbearable pain that came with it.

My vision flickered, nausea flared, hair prickled. It felt as if I was living life at the seat of an active volcano.

Please, god, make it stop!

My eyes were closed so tightly, that a sparkling vision had begun to float about underneath my eyelids. My jaw couldn't possibly take more strain than what my muscles were permitting. And yet it did.

The pain, the agony.

Infinite tidal waves of molten embers washed through my system, bringing with it an inky darkness so deep, I felt as if I would never see the light of day again.

My consciousness was evaporating. I was free and yet, now, I was trapped in this new realm. A realm of restrictive agony.

I still could not move.

As if in answer to my thoughts, warmth suddenly washed over my midsection to create a somewhat soothing feeling against the icy chill I had been experiencing.

A warmth that promised shorter suffering….or did it?

The lightness of weight quickly surged forth, back into my bones, leaving me to feel as if I were levitating.

That man had warned me something of this…that man…my brother….the brother with the twinkling eyes…with the knowledge of pain… he had warned me of this, hadn't he?…I couldn't remember…

Either way, this warmth? It was bad…he told me that much. It was dangerous even.

The instinct to cover up the warmth and stem its flow suddenly overrode my dulled awareness and I pawed forwards weakly at a hot entry point.

It hurt like the blazes and yet, the more pressure there was, the better it felt.

I had been right to listen to my brother. He had always pulled through for me, even when we were apart. I would have to thank him, if i saw him again.

In, out, in out. The breathing must continue.

I tried, but choked. The strange, hot liquid had returned in my mouth. It was hard to breathe around and only served a nuisance to my struggles.

Perhaps if I turned onto my side…

My body twisted slightly at the unassuming command, permitting me to lie on my side and drain the horrible liquid from my mouth.

The pain of breathing ceased unexpectedly.

Not missing a beat, I tested a deep lungful and found that only a minor twinge of pain returned.

What did this mean?

I pondered the unusual fact a moment longer before common sense forbid my mind from wandering along that dangerous lonely path again. I needed help, I needed to reach my brothers.

Lying here would accomplish nothing but a slow and painful death.

I fisted numb fingers into the grass, pulling my body over onto my front as my legs slid up and pushed me into a crawling arc of sorts. I stayed in this inferior position until I found the strength to lean back and simply kneel in the grass.

It was a triumph for the ages.

Dropping a hand to my leaking, sodden gut, set about a new fire. One i had somehow been prepared for, though it not as severe i had expected.

Counting my graces for this supposedly heaven-sent sign, I mustered all of my remaining strength into my legs and painfully raised myself onto my feet, swaying there for a moment longer.

I was up. Free. Now, there was smoke...Smoke everywhere.

There were shadows of men in battle.

It was that much harder to decipher them up here, through the thick of it all. Especially when you were bleeding out and your sight was consequently failing.

And yet, I stumbled forth, towards the riot. I would not stop, not again.

I may not be able to move again if i did...

I looked forth, stumbling with my head held high -searching for my brothers ever more. I had to find them!

I was beginning to forget why.

Some one up here, one of the twisting, turning, screaming men...one of them would be my brothers in arms. They would find a way to help me.

I would merely walk up to them and announce my need for assistance. I doubt they'd turn me down...they couldn't. I needed them.

To greet them would be much wiser than calling them out -for if I did, they could be stabbed, much like I was.

Left foot, forth, right foot, forth. In, out, in out. Blink vision clear. Pressure on wound. Brace for pain. Repeat.

I could do this. I could reach them. I could save myself. I could-

Suddenly, something rough caught my boot and wrenched me back down to the earth with a cry I hadn't known possible of myself.

Red hot pain wracked my body in an instant, crippling my defenses and leaving me in the throws of agony. My vision faded, my breathing hitched, my muscles tensed leaving my body to naturally curl in upon itself.

It cried for an end. I couldn't help but agree.

I was being foolish. I could not escape this fate, not like this. Not on my own. It was over. I was through.

Warm, blissful peace descended on my weary bones and dulled the pains of my body and mind. A smile touched my lips as I closed my eyes.

The lethargy was seductive. I could just sleep away the pain. Who knew it would be so easy?

Suddenly, a voice cut through the fog… a familiar voice…

It called for me.

A conflict for sleep and wakefulness quickly took place in my mind. Should I stay here and rest…forget the agony, the pain, the suffering…or, relive it all in the hopes that I may be saved…

As it would turn out, I didn't have the authority for the choice.

Strong, insistent fingers abruptly wove their way into my leather garment and rolled me onto my back. Then the deep, gruff voice came back overhead, echoing my name. Ordering me to wake, to respond, to open my eyes.

But I was just so tired…sleep couldn't hurt…could it?

I had tried my hardest, i deserved this rest.

The brushing of fabric quickly turned into prodding and gentle shoving. My 'savior' wasn't giving up so easily.

The voice boomed again, though this time, it was tainted with fright instead of plain concern.

Perhaps I should take pity on them…open my eyes…convey to them my need for rest, so they would leave me alone. Give me peace.

I opened my eyes and 'focused' them towards the giant looming dark form above me. I could just make out his white, piercing half smile that shone down to me -as if I was being rewarded for doing his bidding.

But then the smile faded and my savior looked off into the distance. It looked as if he was troubled. Torn between two conflicts -of which I was slowly forgetting existed.

Lately, all that had mattered was breathing and searching. Now, all that mattered was just breathing…maybe not even that.

The man above me suddenly dropped back down to my side, calling to someone loudly over his shoulder before digging his thick, dark arms under my frame.

Despite the addled state, I braced myself for what I knew would come next. And come it did.

Jolted up into the air in the strong, sturdy arms of the man who seemed determined to help me, I found myself wishing I had not been found.

The pain came back. The tremors too. The all consuming need to scream, run, vomit and claw my way out came back with a vengeance.

I tried to move. Tried to raise my voice by some way of protest. But my efforts were futile.

All i managed was a moan.

"Stay still, Athos. I've got you, It's okay" a deep voice murmured.

_Somehow_, his words cut through the fog -bringing me back to a sense of reality. Telling me that I was not alone, that help had arrived, that this _ordeal _I had been battling had finally amounted to something.

It was an overwhelming feeling. A feeling that sent a single tear trailing down my dirty cheek before a blanket of darkness started to consume me entirely with the final thought that maybe I wouldn't have to die today... at least not alone.

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**Little cliffy? Good/Bad? ...part two will be up shortly! Please let me know what you thought of this :)**


	2. Lost Time

**Thanks for the reviews/faves/follows, i'm really happy that you****'****re liking it! Here****'****s the next and final chapter (there is a twist!) lots of emotions and some humour too -because it's who i am and i can never avoid that genre no matter the genre ;D**

**This chapter is in the perspective of both Athos and Porthos, though the majority is Porthos trying to comfort Athos. I hope i wrote it well enough for you to know who is talking/thinking...i'm probably just over thinking this haha...aaanyways ****Enjoy!**

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"Oi! Athos! Wake up!" a loud voice boomed overhead.

Athos bolted upright, eyes blowing wide -first in surprise from the sudden wake up call, then, in the fact that he was... sitting in bed... back in his room... _completely_ unscathed.

Mouth now hanging open in awe, Athos sought out the face of his rude awakening friend, Porthos, who now stood by the foot of his bed -a look of concern splayed across his face.

"Er...you was twitchin' an' moanin' and sweatin' up a storm, 'Thos... Thought it'd be more decent ta wake ya-" Porthos informed, shuffling closer to the bed with a friendly smile, "-than let ya live out yer nightmares…"

Athos' brow furrowed at this latest revelation, his sapphire eyes critically taking in his surroundings and measuring them for a reality he thought he'd lost.

"Just a nightmare?..." Athos murmured, quietly, as he raised a shaky hand and ran it through his tousled hair.

_But it had felt so real! It _**had **_been real__…_

Upon seeing the tattered state of his friend, Porthos slowly sank upon the end of the bed and clasped his brothers' shoulder in a firm grip, "You wanna talk 'bout it?"

Blue eyes met brown for a moment, their intense gazes sharing nothing but warmth in a lapse of vulnerability that was rarely, if ever, shown.

"No…" Athos whispered, averting his troubled eyes back to the sweat sodden sheets -a slight blush of embarrassment cropping up on his pale features.

"S'okay ta tell me, 'Thos. You've 'elped me through 'nough of mine…" Porthos encouraged, his hand never losing its supportive grip.

Athos shook his head slightly, "Won't do any good…" he murmured slowly, his eyes remaining downcast as he rubbed at his 'wounded' side absently; tenderly rubbing against the white, puckered line that adorned his abdomen.

Porthos' brow furrowed in conflicted recognition when his eyes caught the subtle movements of his troubled brother. _This hadn__'__t been a nightmare after all__…__it had been a memory__…The scars told the story..._

"Is tha' wha' it was 'bout?" Porthos probed, tentatively, gesturing towards Athos' side where a protective hand now cradled his midsection.

After a brief pause of silence, Athos gave way with a short, curt nod. _Yes_.

Porthos bit the inside of his lip thoughtfully, stewing on the best way to approach his brothers' dance with death all those years ago...Back to a time when they hadn't been there to save him from the blade, but _had _been there to save him from the reaper…

Porthos shivered as the blurry recollection of that fateful day swamped back into his mind…the limp, bloodied, pale form of his brother, lying face down in the mud, barely breathing and hardly lucid.

It had shaken him to the bones.

Never had he seen Athos so stripped of his regal authority, never had he seen him totally and completely defeated…to the point where he had almost given up on life.

_Athos never gave in, never gave up on them _or_ himself__…__ And yet, with his strength depleted and his mind raked raw, he had almost__…_

_Three bound, cracked ribs, fifteen stitches front and back and two weeks in bed was what it had taken just to replenish his friends' blood supply and fight off all the nasty fevers. __I__t was a monumental achievement, one that wasn't commonly surpassed._

_Aramis had surely performed his best medical feasts during those solemn weeks, all while D__'__artagnan stood dutifully by and helped in any way he could -regardless of the lack of sleep. __As for himself, he had done__ his best to lighten the mood when times got rough...had tried to watch over everyone and keep the spirits high, for mentalities' sake._

_By whatever grace of god, Athos had pulled through. He had survived to tell the tales__…__and live through the memories. They all had._

_It was both a blessing and a curse -a curse with which he was willing to endure in these long nights and troublesome days; and it was an easy bargain as far as he was concerned, as it meant Athos was still alive._

But he knew how the scars -both in mind and body- still haunted Athos to this day, how they still plagued the man with thoughts of fragile mortality... and how he owed his brothers a life debt…though they would never consent.

_But why now, of all times had this memory resurfaced? Why was Athos digging up the past again? The days were going by just fine lately...nothing to remind him of those darker days..._

Whatever the reason, he wouldn't allow the experience to trouble Athos any further -at least not today.

"Ya don' need ta be thinkin bout tha' stuff while yer sleepin', 'Thos. It wasn' yer fault it happened, it was _ours__" _Porthos supplied, guiltily.

_When would he finally accept that?_

Athos shook his head adamantly and opened his mouth as if to speak -but Porthos held up a patient hand. If his brother had lost his wits, then he would be the man to restore them, no matter how painful the story was…

"It was our fault 'cause we shoulda been there ta protect ya, 'Thos, an' we wasn't. I wish you'd jus' get tha' through yer thick skull already -so I can stop repeatin ma'self" Porthos jested fondly -though his brown eyes still sparkled with sadness.

Athos sighed heavily and shook his head, almost as if he couldn't agree with his brothers' logic, "It wasn't _your _fault, Porthos. It wasn't any of your faults. _I _made the stupid decision to pursue that man… _I _was the one who didn't watch my surroundings and_ I _was the one whopaid the price for it, plain and simple. It was _I _who endangered all of your lives that day, and for that, I will never forgive myself…" he finished, bluntly -cold eyes now finding those of his friends.

Rolling his eyes in frustration, Porthos vigorously shook his head in denial, "See! There ya go again, 'me me me.' It's not all about you ya know!" he joked, trying desperately to steer the conversation to brighter shores.

_They couldn't keep heading down this road, it wasn't healthy and it sure as hell wasn't right -by Athos' recollection of events at least._

A small quirk of Athos' lips was the only indication that the joke had been heard and received, otherwise, the man seemed particularly un-phased and stoic._ As usual._

"Listen, Athos…" Porthos began seriously, "Wha'ever it is tha' keeps bringin ya back to that battle, I want ya to know tha' it was _never_ yer fault. None of us think so and none of us ever will. No soldier can be on guard for attacks at _all _times, an' we're all bound ta get hurt at some point anyways… So stow the whelps' puppy dog act and liven' up a little, huh? You lived through it once already, time to leave it behind once an' for all, don' ya think?" Porthos prodded, a small encouraging grin sliding onto his features.

Athos raised his eyes back to his friend, this time blinking hard to avoid the shine his friend had stirred up, "You should have become a poet, brother…Aramis would be envious of your hidden talents" came the hoarse reply.

Porthos' grin widened and his brothers' small attempt at humour, it was a good sign. A sign that he was trying.

Leaning over, Porthos delivered a forceful but friendly clap on Athos' back, rising with a beaming smile that spoke of happier days. "Ha! Yer a real funny man, 'Thos. Me, a poet? Now tha's a good one!" he chuckled.

Athos smiled back good naturedly before giving himself a moment to digest the heavy emotions and finally swivel out of his sheets and come to a stand by his brother -a look of gracious approval blending into his once sorrowful expression.

_At least if the grim thoughts wouldn't leave his mind at peace, Porthos would be there to talk his ears into oblivion. It was nice to have someone to rely on, especially if you couldn't rely on yourself,_ Athos mused dryly.

"So ya gonna get dressed or are ya jus' gonna practice making dewy eyes all day?" Porthos taunted, pointing at his brothers' half clad form.

Snapping himself out of the trance almost immediately, Athos made sure to roll his eyes at his brother before shuffling over to his discarded boots, his hand finally leaving the thin white scar on his stomach as he went.

_Demons be damned, he couldn__'__t let them haunt him forever. Besides, now was a time to be sensible and go down for breakfast _Athos pondered hungrily.

Pulling on one worn boot first and then the other, Athos quickly straightened and turned back to his bedpost where he'd left his leather overcoat and hat. It was getting rather awkward shuffling around in this silence, and the fact that he'd sleepily revealed his true problems for once was becoming a suffocating embarrassment.

_Brother or no, Porthos shouldn't have to pick up the pieces he'd dropped, nor address his weaknesses. It seemed like a childish ordeal, but leaders couldn't be seen with flaws, not even to those closest to them. He was to be strong for them, not the other way around._

Athos' little spiel of self berating would have continued if Porthos hadn't suddenly side stepped into his path and gripped him into a tight, warm embrace. The kind of embrace that would force Athos' mind to think about a completely new subject...or problem.

Although Porthos may look big, unkind and somewhat intimidating to others it had never meant that he didn't have a heart of gold…and no, not a stolen heart of gold.

It also didn't mean that the man was oblivious to other peoples' emotions -especially when it came to his brothers -of whom he could read like a book.

And so came the hug.

Rooted in shock, Athos merely accepted the unexpected embrace, standing rigidly on the spot for a moment as his mind worked up a storm of plausible excuses that may extract him from the uncomfortable situation.

A clap on the back or a friendly, two second embrace was completely fine with Athos...but a tight, suffocating embrace that felt more like a tree had wrapped its thick branches around your chest was unacceptable -to put it mildly.

And so, in a matter of seconds, Athos was beginning to squirm furiously as he worked on regaining the breath that had been stolen from his lungs -the many arguments he had prepared for his brother now drowned in silence.

_One thing was sure, if his back didn't snap first, his lungs would burst and his eyes would fall out -both being two very crucial components of a musketeer that Athos felt were better kept in healthy proportions…and protected from villainous 'actions' such as these._

Or at least this was the flimsy excuse Athos had managed to conjure in the few feeble seconds that Porthos had used to lock onto him.

" 'rthos! C'nt….breathe!…"Athos choked, his palms now beginning to tap heavily at the larger mans shoulder blades while his feet dangled uselessly above the floor boards.

And yet, the embrace continued…_for Porthos was stubborn as ever._

"P'rthos!" Athos squeaked out urgently -his once tender, tapping ministrations turning into an onslaught of unfriendly fists.

"L't…. me….go…dammit!" Athos heaved, his legs now kicking about in an impatient manner.

"A'right! A'right 'Thos! Mon diue! Keep yer wig on!.. I was jus' tryna brighten' up yer mood" Porthos grumbled mischievously as he dropped his grumpy brother back onto his boots and backed away defensively, hands in the air.

Athos shot his brother a most un-amused glare as he stretched out his stiff limbs and caught his breath, "Yes, well…next time, just bring a candle"

Porthos rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh, "No promises, 'Thos…no promises" he offered with a cheeky grin, sliding back towards his comrade so he could pluck up the hat on the bedpost.

Almost immediately, Athos snatched his hat from his brothers' grasp and clapped it protectively onto his head, then stepped back a few paces so he could cautiously loop the large, white shirt over his head before donning his leather jacket.

"You all ready now, princess?" Porthos teased after a boring moment of witnessing Athos flexing his fingers into his gloves.

To his amusement, the remark only gained a dim scowl from Athos -though it did get the man moving towards the door with his weapons belt in tow.

Following obediently, Porthos took a last glance of the quiet bed chambers of his comrade, his eyes casting on the unseen horrors within haunted the living space.

_It was unfortunate that his dear friend should revisit them each night to suffer at the hands of their harmful inquiries… to hear those falsely offered promises of bliss among the dead or to see the lost, anguished faces from guilt ridden pasts…_

_But now, with this new brotherhood, Athos would not alone…he would not have to face these demons alone. And although it was true, his swords could never slay these demons nor protect his brother from their grueling tales…he would _always_ be there to lead his brother back home. As would they all. They would always be there to counter these violent truths…always be there to distract and dissuade those vile thoughts…always usually in the accompaniment of breakfast or wine.._

It was at this fond thought, that Porthos' stomach suddenly gurgled hungrily as if by way of complaint -reminding him that he had once been attending to said flavorsome breakfast only minutes ago…that was, until Aramis had dispatched him for Athos… under the threat of "no sausages."

And so he had rushed off to acquire the grumpy eldest…only to find him in that state of unaware disarray. It had been concerning, saddening even…but now that the matter had been dealt with, food could no longer be ignored.

_What better a way than to fill the toils of the mind than with delicious sausages?_

And so, with a small grin now lighting up his face, Porthos quickly turned from the room and closed the door to his brothers quarters, hurrying back down the stairs to see if he could beat Athos to breakfast.

_He had to hand it to the 'man with the plan'... he could move quickly if he wanted to! The only problem there could possibly be now, was the very real threat of Athos reaching and eating the last of the canteens' sausages before he did. _

That _would be a devastating loss…one he could never forgive…_

And so he poured on the speed, sliding under low beams and around sharp corners, his possessions clinking together on his belt in his haste for food.

_No one would be taking his sausages, not if he could help it!_

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**And there you have it! Was it what you expected? I didn't even see the twist coming myself if i'm honest! Please leave a review and let me know what you thought! **

**I'm off now to finish up my other stories, don't worry, i haven't forgot! ;)**

**Have a great day! **


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